Hey, you! Yeah, you, the idiot jabbering away on his phone implant. Pull over! Pull your vehicle over to the side of the road, turn on your blinkers. All right, shut off the engine. Let me see your keycard. OK, drop it on the ground. Now step out of the air car, place your hands behind your head, and await further instructions. What the hell is it with you Gen-Zed types and blowing right through police checkpoints? Don’t you know there’s a war on?

What do you mean, “What war?” The war on crime, you ape-faced, sorry excuse for an Earthling. Cripes, when was the last time you did any sit-ups, the Schwarzenegger, Jr. administration? All right, all right, over against the wall, fatty, and don’t give me any of that ‘Jupiter’s gravity makes me seem obese but I’m not’ nonsense. We’ll let my partner take it from here. And don’t give her any lip–my touch is a lot softer than hers. Whatever kind of a bad day you’re having, it’s about to get worse.

Released today in 1997, G-Police for the PlayStation was a pretty impressive cross between the aerial combat seen in games like Wing Commander and the futuristic worlds of films like Blade Runner. Your mission is to patrol one of Jupiter’s moons delivering justice to criminal overlords and street scum one high-explosive shell at a time from the cockpit of your Havoc helicopter.

With thirty missions to fly, an abundance of tutorials to get you acclimated to the way your whirlybird zigs and zags, and enough firepower to propel a fifth of the city into low orbit, G-Police offers nothing but a ridiculously over-the-top and fun action shooter experience. Weave through the skyscrapers, dodge flying cars, and read holographic billboards while you try not to get the gyros shot out from under you by the thugs you’re out to bust. Yeah there’s not much story, but when you’re packing wall-to-wall action with some great controls in this mid-generation game from UK development house Psygnosis, what more do you need? So sign up for the Galaxy Police rookie, and see if you’ve got what it takes to clean up the neon-lit streets for good. If you don’t, I hear they’ve always got room for another data coordination intern down in central processing.

Michael Crisman

In 1979, Michael Crisman was mauled by a radioactive Gorgar pinball machine. After the wounds healed, doctors discovered his DNA had been re-coded. No longer fully human, Michael requires regular infusions of video games in order to continue living among you. If you see him, he can see you. Make no sudden moves, but instead bribe him with old issues of computer and video game magazines or a mint-in-box copy of Dragon Warrior IV.


If he made you laugh, drop a tip in his jar at http://paypal.me/modernzorker


(If he didn't make you laugh, donate to cure his compulsion to bang keyboards by sending an absurdly huge amount of money to his tip jar instead. That'll show him!)